5 Sweet, in the confidence of faith,
To trust his firm decrees;
Sweet to lie passive in his hand,
And know no will but his.

6 If such the sweetness of the streams,
What must the fountain be,
Where saints and angels draw their bliss
Immediately from thee!

HYMN 557. C. M.

Standish. Martyr's. Lebanon.

Joy in sorrow.

1 AND let this feeble body fail,
And let it faint or die;

My soul shall quit the mournful vale,
And soar to worlds on high;

2 Shall join the disembodied saints,
And find its long sought rest,
(The only rest for which it pants,)
On the Redeemer's breast.

3 In hope of that immortal crown,
I now the cross sustain;
And gladly wander up and down,
And smile at toil and pain.

4 I travel my appointed years,
Till my Deliv'rer come,

And wipe away his servant's tears,
And take his exile home.

HYMN 558.

L. M.

Cowper.

Quercy. Surry,

The billows of temptation.

1 THE billows swell, the winds are high; Clouds overcast my wintry sky;

Out of the depths to thee I callMy fears are great, my strength is small. 2 Dangers of ev'ry shape and name, Attend the foll'wers of the Lamb, Who leave the world's deceitful shore, And leave it to return no more.

3 God of my life, to thee I call,
Afflicted at thy feet I fall;

Do thou the pilot's part perform,
And guide and guard me through the storm.
HYMN 559. 8s.

Lambeth. Uxbridge.

Rev. xxi. 4.

1 DISCONSOLATE tenant of clay,
In solemn assurance arise,
Thy treasure of sorrow survey,
And look through it all to the skies:
That heav'nly house is prepar'd

For all who are sufferers here,
And wait the return of their Lord,
And long for his day to appear.
2 There all the tempestuous blast
Of bitter affliction is o'er;

The spirit is landed at last,

And sorrow and shame are no more;

Temptation and trouble are gone,
The trial is all at an end-

And there I shall cease to bemoan
The loss of my brother and friend.

HYMN 560. C. M.

Windsor. Standish.

The Parent's prayer.

C. W.

John iv. 46-49.

1 JESUS, great healer of mankind,
Who dost our sorrows bear

Let an afflicted parent find
An answer to his pray'r.

2 I look for help in thee alone,
To thee for succour fly;
Come down and heal my darling son,
Now at the point to die.

3 Jesus, if thou pronounce the word,
The gracious answer give,

My dying child shall be restor❜d,
And to thy glory live.

4 Oh, save the parent, in the son,
Restore him, Lord, to me;
My heart the miracle shall own,
And give him back to thee.

Chapel. Buckingham.

Light in darkness. Ps. cxii. 4.

M.

1 0 THOU who dry'st the mourner's tear, How dark this world would be,

If, pierc'd by sins and sorrows here,
We could not fly to thee!

2 The friends, who in our sunshine live,
When winter comes, are flown;
And he who has but tears to give,
Must weep those tears alone.

3 Oh! who could bear life's stormy doom, Did not thy wing of love

Come brightly wafting through the gloom Our peace-branch from above?

4 Then sorrow touch'd by thee, grows bright, With more than rapture's ray;

As darkness shows us worlds of light,
We never saw by day.

HYMN 562.

C. M.

Haweis.

Neh. v. 19.

Buckingham. Martyr's. Wantage.

Think upon me.

1 O THOU, from whom all goodness flows,

I lift my heart to thee;

In all my trials, conflicts, woes,
Dear Lord, remember me.

2 When groaning, on my burden'd heart
My sins lie heavily;

My pardon speak, new peace impart;
In love, remember me.

3 If on my face, for thy dear name,
Shame and reproaches be;

I'll hail reproach, and welcome shame, If thou remember me.

4 The hour is near-consign'd to death, I own the just decree;

Saviour, with my last parting breath,
I'll cry-remember me.

St. Bridges. Orange.

Sick-bed reflections.

Dwight.

1 JUST o'er the grave I hung-
No pardon met my eyes,
As blessings never greet the slain,
And hope shall never rise.

2 Sweet mercy to my soul
Reveal'd no charming ray;
Before me rose a long-dark night,
With no succeeding day.

3 Then-Oh, how vain appear'd
The joys beneath the sky'
Like visions past-like flow'rs that blow
When wint❜ry storms are nigh.

4 How mourn'd my sinking soul

The Sabbath's hours divine,
The day of grace, that precious day,
Consum'd in sense and sin.

5 The work-the mighty work
Of life, so long delay'd-
Repentance yet to be begun
Upon a dying bed.